


Whatever A Moon Has Always Meant

by starfleetdicks



Series: McSpirkHolidayFest Prompt Fills [7]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Multi, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9173176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfleetdicks/pseuds/starfleetdicks
Summary: “Hello, Jim. Gonna check to make sure you haven’t hurt yourself too bad with this. Just be a good boy for me, okay, sweetheart?” Jim answered with a bubbling snarl but McCoy’s hand pressing firmly against his chest stopped him. He went limp, letting his head fall back against the tiles. “That’s the first time you’ve ever given up so easily, Jim. I might prefer you this way,” McCoy joked but Spock noticed the tremor in his hands as he pulled out his tricorder.A late McSpirk werewolf AU fic for mcspirkholidayfest on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a McSpirkHolidayFest prompt by thedenofcaseywolfe: _Vampires/werewolves are real. And OF COURSE Jim Kirk is one._
> 
> Title taken from "i carry your heart with me" by e e cummings.

Spock adjusted his telescope fractionally to reduce the glare of the full moon on his lens. 

“You’ll freeze like this.” 

The ground was cold and the wind was howling but the sky had cleared since the midday drizzle. Spock ignored his partner and peered into the telescope again. Glancing at the chronometer, he made one last adjustment before beginning his recording. 

“Give me your hands,” his partner said once more, taking Spock by the wrists as soon as the recording was set. “If you die, I’m telling everyone about the time you cried over a busted experiment.” 

Spock did not answer. Despite his teasing, Leonard McCoy was not the type to flaunt private matters to the world. Perhaps thanks to years of doctoring and patient confidentiality, McCoy could be counted on to keep almost all secrets. It might also have worked in Spock’s favor that said doctor was his current lover as well. 

McCoy roughly tugged gloves onto Spock’s quickly paling hands. With an air of satisfaction, he kissed Spock’s clothed fingertips. The barrier between them did nothing to stop the excitement that sizzled up Spock’s forearms. “Leonard,” Spock muttered. As if completely unaware of his effect, McCoy continued as he pleased. He pulled a beanie down over Spock’s ears and threaded a sweet-smelling scarf tightly around Spock’s neck for good measure. 

“Mm,” McCoy huffed, breath puffing into a white cloud before him. “Much better. How much longer until your meteor shower, darling?” 

Spock cleared his throat and checked the time once more. “Ten seconds.” 

“Too bad Jim got sick. This is oddly romantic.”

“We have yet to discuss how you would like to handle the Jim situation. Do you intend to--”

“Hush now, I think I just saw something.” McCoy’s grip on his bicep was tight. Across the silent sky, a slice of white light bloomed into being. Spock’s breath caught in his throat. “Lord,” McCoy gasped next to him, face turned reverently upwards. A thousand more points of light twinkled into existence and began their sharp fall toward Terra. 

Spock checked his recording a final time before lying backwards for a broader view. “Leonard,” he whispered and, in a less elegant flop, McCoy was nestled against his side, still looking ever skyward. Spock kissed the top of his head, nuzzled the softness there, and held his mate tight for the duration of the event. 

“I love you.”

“And I you, ashayam.”

It felt like a mere heartbeat had passed before the last spear of light faded from the sky and they detangled from one another. 

McCoy rubbed futilely at his numb legs. “How long?”

“An hour and a half.”

“Fuck,” McCoy swore, standing up and jogging in place. “As beautiful and romantic as it was, darling, and it was. I am ready to head in. Gotta check on Jim’s vitals. His heartrate was crazy when we left my dorm earlier.”

Spock packed his equipment away, sending the recording forward to Jim’s personal PADD. Everything fit neatly into a small pack he could carry on his back. The wonders of science never ceased to amaze him. So much power stored in such a small space. “The meteor shower will cheer him if he’s still awake. The video was high quality. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the effort we went through for his astronomy class.”

“He better. Beyond cold out here tonight. The one time he needs us outside and of course he catches a flu or something.” 

“Still unable to diagnose his symptoms?” Spock took McCoy’s hand into his own, leading him back to the dormitories. 

McCoy hummed, squeezing Spock’s hand. “Well, increased heart rate, perspiration, shortness of breath, phantom pain, and headaches can be indicative of a lot of things. I don’t have enough information to make an educated guess at what’s wrong with him. I’m a little worried though. He had these same symptoms about a month back. If I didn’t know better, I’d worry about him having developed a menstrual cycle. It wouldn’t be the first time one of my male patients was worried about informing me of ongoing transitions.”

Spock nodded seriously. He thought briefly on Stonn, who had once had long plaited hair and quickly developing secondary features, before finding himself and T’Pring.

“It’d be easier if he’d just let me monitor him twenty-four seven but he’s so stingy about being recorded, especially at night.” McCoy let go of Spock only to scramble over a fallen log, bouncing in place while Spock carefully pulled himself over it as well. He latched onto Spock’s arm immediately when they could continue on together. “God, so cold. Jim owes me a beer tomorrow.” 

“Almost there,” Spock answered before McCoy continued to talk about some of his upcoming medical exams and a professor he was having a particularly hard time with. It made for a relaxing walk back, as if they were just out for a midnight stroll. 

“And then he says, mind you I’m quoting the damn man, well, Mr. McCoy, if you want to succeed in my class you’ll have to play by the same rules as everyone else. First, I tell him, it’s doctor not mister. Second, I won’t do something that I know will endanger a patient, especially not for higher marks, _sir_. Well, he didn’t take too kindly, you can imagine.” McCoy pressed his hand to the door scanner. “He has the nerve to remove me from class for the day. Little did he know that I treated Pike in my last civilian hospital assignment. Pike gave him quite the talking to and threatened to remove him from the academy if he continued to put his students in such a morally reprehensible situation again. Professor still hates me but it’s well worth-- Jim?” 

The dorm was a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere and broken glass littered the carpet. McCoy went first to Jim’s bedroom while Spock began to clean up the main living area.

“Jim!” McCoy shouted, racing back through the living room to his own bedroom. “Fuck. Spock, Jim’s not here.”

Spock glanced around once before tugging open the bathroom door. 

A snarling beast met him in the doorway and he closed the door quickly. 

“Leonard,” he said with a carefully measured tone.

“What! I’m trying to call Nyota.”

“That will be unnecessary. I think I have found Jim.” 

“In the bathroom?” McCoy asked, sprinting out of his room. “Why is the door closed?”

Spock grimaced, still holding the doorknob tightly. “Have you heard of lycanthrophy? I believe Jim may have become infected with it.”

McCoy stared at him, an eyebrow twitching up. “Spock, stop playing games. Let me get to Jim. If he’s in there with a girl, I’ll deal with it later but I should still check on his vitals.”

“Leonard, I am serious.”

“Spock, I swear to God and all his glory.”

Spock opened the door obediently. A long, rumbling growl issued from the half human, half lupine form lying on the bathroom floor. The figure did not move, only half-heartedly reaching out toward the door before groaning and curling in on itself again. McCoy gripped the doorframe, leaning in with more calm than Spock thought possible. 

“Looks like he’s injured. Blood on the rug and in the tub. Might have clawed himself. I need to get my medkit. Don’t touch him but don’t close the door back on him again. Probably still self-aware.” McCoy looked at him grimly before running back toward his room. 

Jim rumbled, twisting once more, and stared up at Spock. His eyes were unmistakable, even while his face was more muzzle and fur than anything resembling Terran. The chest as well, littered with scars and bruises Spock had seen just yesterday, marked him as Jim.

“Always expected werewolves to be furrier than this.” McCoy’s voice startled Spock. “Sorry,” was all McCoy said before carefully walking into the bathroom, hand out placatingly. “Hello, Jim. Gonna check to make sure you haven’t hurt yourself too bad with this. Just be a good boy for me, okay, sweetheart?” Jim answered with a bubbling snarl but McCoy’s hand pressing firmly against his chest stopped him. He went limp, letting his head fall back against the tiles. “That’s the first time you’ve ever given up so easily, Jim. I might prefer you this way,” McCoy joked but Spock noticed the tremor in his hands as he pulled out his tricorder. 

Spock knelt on the other side of Jim, running a soothing hand over his flank. Jim’s long tail smacked at the floor and Spock withdrew his hand quickly. “I suppose you are not quite like a Terran dog despite appearances.”

Jim did not answer but turned so his back was to Spock. The change was more apparent there. Coarse fur covered Jim thoroughly, only his chest and stomach somewhat spared from the change. Jim groaned, curling in on himself once again, and Spock watched in fascination as Jim grew claws on both his hands and feet. 

McCoy pressed a hypo to Jim’s neck, mumbling under his breath about _unknown physiologies_ and _shots in the dark_. 

“This is only the second time he has been sick, correct? Perhaps the transformation becomes easier as time goes on. It is so late into the evening but he is still changing.”

“There isn’t much I can do for him. I thought werewolves were a joke. I used to make up stories about them for Jo. Who knew I’d be treating one. He’s just got to get through it on his own. In the morning, I can treat him better.” McCoy held up a dermal regenerator, looking for any open wounds. 

Jim moaned in discomfort as his skin stitched back together. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s going to be a long night.” 

Jim sank his fresh claws into the bathroom rug, the fabric shredding in his hand, before going limp with exhaustion. 

McCoy sat back, dropping his tools into his bag and rubbing his face. “You know, I thought he was going to give me a run for my money with just his damn allergies. But this...”

Spock desperately wanted to touch his lover but sensed it would do little to help the situation at hand. He looked down instead at Jim, running his fingers along Jim’s furred spine. “In the morning. It will be easier in the morning. It is still just Jim. We can figure this out together.” 

They slept on the bathroom floor: McCoy curled in a corner and Spock laid out beside Jim. 

When morning came, Spock awoke to the sound of bare feet on tile and Jim sneaking out of the bathroom. Spock counted to fifty before following. It had given Jim enough time to find clothes but not enough time to flee the dorm. 

“Jim.”

Jim squeaked, nearly falling into his open closet. He looked back at Spock, lingering in his doorway, and slumped in defeat. “I wasn’t going to run. I was just gonna make breakfast and figure out how to tell you guys.”

McCoy appeared over Spock’s shoulder, rubbing his eyes and frowning deeply. “Tell us why the hell you’re a werewolf?”

Jim squirmed. He pulled on his starfleet gym shirt to avoid answering immediately. “Look, it’s a long story. Can we eat while we talk about it? I’m still embarrassed you guys found me like that.”

Breakfast was quiet. Jim ate as he always did, with little concern of manners. McCoy was more reserved, barely making it into his biscuits and gravy before sitting back with his arms crossed. Spock sipped at his tea, waiting for the inevitable outburst. 

Jim beat McCoy to the punch. “It’s not a disease. I didn’t get scratched or anything. I’ve always been, uh, a werewolf.” 

“Always?” Spock asked while McCoy tried to pick his jaw up from the floor. 

“Well, yeah. It’s hereditary on my mom’s side. It’s pretty rare that a pup survives and we’re not exactly supposed to still be around. Mom used to say our kind nearly went extinct a hundred years ago. It’s a miracle there’s been a resurgence at all. There’s maybe 50 of us left? The community is pretty secretive. You guys weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Pretty hard to hide transforming every full moon from us, Jim,” McCoy mumbled. 

“About that.” Jim seemed to brace himself. “We don’t. Usually. The transformation thing is like the final passage into adulthood for wolves. It’s like finally coming into your spots or ears or whatever.”

Spock remembered Amanda once telling him as a child that all Vulcans had to grow into their pointed ears and logic. 

McCoy looked unimpressed. “So you’re a big boy officially or something?”

“Well. Mom never changed. I didn’t think I would either. Even last month when I was sick, you were there the whole time and nothing happened.”

Spock touched McCoy’s hand to calm his mounting frustration. “What was different this time?”

Jim shrugged, grabbing McCoy’s breakfast to finish it for him. With his mouth full, he guessed, “Stress, maybe?”

“I’m assuming you can’t cure your biology. You’re not human so there’s nothing to fix, right?”

Jim swallowed and glanced up at McCoy bashfully. “Yeah, no. This is me. Spock was right. It’ll get easier each full moon and I’ll gain more control over it. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to go. I know it’s different than interacting with an alien species but... Can we still be friends?”

McCoy frowned and Jim ducked his head.

Spock imagined those elongated wolf ears from last night pressing flat to Jim’s head or that coarse tail drooping. “It is not a question of remaining friends with you, Jim. This does create other complications, however. We were intending to ask you of your romantic interest in us.”

Jim spluttered, quickly holding his hands up. “I totally-- I haven’t. I mean, I’m not.”

“Not interested?” McCoy sneered. 

“You’re both incredibly attractive but uh.”

“Eloquent, Jim. We clearly didn’t fall in love with you for your command of the Standard tongue.”

Jim stared at Spock, hands barely staying up as he seemed to replay Spock’s words over. 

McCoy kicked Jim’s chair. “Next full moon, don’t send us off to do your homework. We’ll need to be better prepared. Is there anything that can ease the transition?”

“Monkshood.”

“ _Aconitum napellus_ , Jim?” Spock asked for clarification although McCoy was already tapping away at his PADD. “A poisonous Terran plant.”

“Poisonous for humans, maybe, not for my kind. It helps us. Can we go back to the part where you said you fell in love with me?”

“Do you ingest the plant or use it like a salve?” McCoy continued, taking notes. 

“Ingest. Spock, come on, help a guy out.” 

“What Leonard is trying to convey, Jim, is that no matter how many broken glasses, torn bathroom rugs, or restless nights, we would be delighted to share them with you.” Spock touched the back of Jim’s hand with two fingers, a delicate half-kiss. “What species you are has little bearing on our love for you. We have been with you through far more terrifying times than this and will likely be with you through more.”

Jim blinked rapidly, turning his hand over to put his own fingers against Spock’s. “Spock...”

“So do you drink it or is it an anal suppository?”

“Bones, you’re killing the romance here so hard, buddy.”

McCoy snorted and Spock tucked his chilled hands back around his teacup. “As if this declaration changes anything. We’ve been acting like a married couple for ages, even before Spock showed up. He just asked before you did. ‘Sides, if we don’t stick by you when you become a captain, who will treat you for heartworms and hairballs?”

“I’m not a dog, Bones!”

“Close enough.” McCoy rolled his eyes and stood up. He kissed Spock once on the lips before kissing Jim as well, who looked once again dazed and blown away. “You need to review the footage Spock grabbed for you last night and get your homework done. I’ll work on figuring out what to do next month. Oh, and Jim?” McCoy paused at the threshold of the dorm room. “No more secrets, y’hear?”

“Yeah,” Jim breathed as he and Spock watched McCoy’s retreating back. “No more secrets.”


End file.
